Bar Money
by reader-chic-2
Summary: I didn't know if there was a term to describe what I did. Every weekend, my dad drank. I dressed up in boots, shorts that showed my butt, and a flannel tied above my waist. My dad played poker or pool or some form of game with a bunch of drunk idiots. I came in and distracted them long enough for him to cheat. It was a routine, this is until some FBI bastard knocked on my window.
1. Chapter 1

**Bar Money**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

 **A/N: I edited and updated this chapter and the part of the next. That's why there's no A/N's. I accidentally deleted them, whoops! Anyways, read on!**

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Fate. At this point in my life, I had nearly decided it didn't exist. However, that would just mean I had bad luck. And I didn't believe in luck. I couldn't. There was no reason I had so much bad luck. So it had to be fate, right? But if fate were a thing, then where in its sick, twisted mind was it taking me?

Sitting in the freezing car, headlights off and phone dying, these thoughts came to mind. When I was little, Valentine would have me sit in the car all night long. The first time almost turned into a large spectacle. Officers saw the headlights on and nearly shit their pants when they saw a nine year old girl sitting behind the wheel of the parked pick up truck. That was the last time we left our headlights on.

Now that I had matured and sophisticated into a young adult with a hint of viable breasts and a taught butt, I could be of use. Valentine would summon me inside when his opponents were drunk enough. Dressed scantily in jean shorts, a short flannel tied above my belly button, and bright read boots, I turned heads. What forty year old country hick wouldn't look at a twenty-two year old, relatively skinny girl dressed in that?

I groaned and rubbed at my arms. Checking the time, I realized only half an hour had passed since he entered the run down bar. This time, he had cornered me as I got out of the shower. He, already very drunk, threatened to never give me my clothes unless I agreed to drive him. The last time I called him on his bluff I ended up being thrown into the swamp outside our house. In Louisiana, he had no clue if there were alligators in there or not. Frankly, he didn't care. So of course I agreed. I always did.

I locked the doors again, but it didn't still my nerves. Valentine always chose secluded, unpopular bars. That was where the gullible, desperate men escaped to on Saturday nights. They wanted to get away from their wives without their knowledge, so they couldn't go to a popular bar, which was relieving for my generation, but not so much for me. The bar I was sitting behind at the moment was off a highway that stretched for miles in either direction, swerving between lagoons and green plant life.

I again checked my phone. This wouldn't have sucked so badly if I only had friends to call. Sure it was now nearly two in the morning, but wasn't that what friends were for? Simon didn't count. Simon went to bed at ten every night. He had no clue I went on these expeditions every weekend.

I looked to the right as a car passed. A police station was right next to this bar. That seemed so out of place. How did these guys even get home? It was comforting in the fact that no creep could come up and try to abduct me. Surprisingly, it hadn't happened yet - well, not before I went into the mouth of the lion den of course.

A rapping on the window made me jump so high I hit my head. My heart pounded in my chest as I spun around. Right outside of the window was a silhouette of a tall, menacing man. I scrambled into the passenger seat. "Go away!"

The man knocked again, harsher. I squealed in fear. This was his fault. This was all Valentine's fault. Instead of staying home and sleeping like a normal high school graduate, I had to go out bar hopping. I was the designated driver and the bait all in one, and now I'd be killed for it the summer before I went to college. I kept telling myself that I just had to go a few more times and I'd be free. I'd have enough money to go to college soon. My waitress job was paying well, and these trips, though I hated admitting it, did help. If I could just get a couple more thousand, he'd send me off to college and make extra money some other way. But damn him, he was getting me killed.

The man produced a flashlight and shined it inside the truck at me. "I don't have anything worth your value. Fuck off!"

Then the light turned on his face. My heart nearly stopped, but it was for a different reason than I had been expecting. Before me stood a man in uniform. He had his badge pressed against the window. FBI.

I nearly choked myself. Slowly, I leaned over into the driver's seat to both get a better look at his badge and his face. It was one of those faces that made your hands sweat and your stomach fill with butterflies. His jawline was perfectly sculpted. His golden hair and golden eyes shined in the moonlight. I could feel my stomach tighten.

His badge seemed official. I wouldn't know. However, if somebody was going to pose as a officer around here, they would know not to use an FBI's badge. We didn't get many of them.

I rolled down the window and he shut off his flashlight. Now just the lone, flickering yellow light lit the area. He was hard to see. I didn't know what to say. He looked around. "Can I help you?"

He frowned, like that was a silly question. "No, but maybe I can help you. Do you realize you're parked in the boss's spot?"

I paled. I had assumed this was something legal related. "There's eight cars here with plenty of field of grass left to park. I think he'll have space."

The FBI agent snorted. "Sweetheart, I know this owner. You don't want to mess with him. He's got some magic voodoo that will make your car disappear."

"Maybe you should look into that, _agent_ ," I emphasized the word. He chuckled warmly, clearly missing my curt tone. Or maybe he voluntarily ignored it.

Gesturing to the front, he said, "You do know where the entrance is, right?"

I huffed indignantly. "No shit, Sherlock, it's probably where the tacky neon sign is flashing. I thought they only pick the best of the best for you FBI."

He leaned into the car a ways, and his scent washed through the vents. I forced myself not to inhale sharply by leaning back some. I had my knees pressed to my chest, and he was casually leaning in the car with his musky hot scent like he owned the place. Prick. "You're too funny, Red."

I folded my arms on top of my knees, resting my chin to my hands. "It's Clary Fray." I decided to simply provide him my middle name instead of my last. If he was a smart agent, maybe he'd find out my real name. He smiled, and I swore I'd never seen a prettier smile.

He tipped his nonexistent hat. "Nice to meet you, Clary. Special agent Jace Wayland. Call me Jace." He outstretched his hands. I didn't shake it, and he let it drop. "Can I ask why you aren't inside?"

I rolled my eyes. "Can I ask what an FBI agent is doing so far into Louisiana's swamp lands?"

He smirked. "My friend runs the joint next to us. Sometimes I give the new recruits a butt whipping. Or teach them how to analyze a subject."

I felt my phone buzz. I ignored it. Now I was interested. "Is this that moment where the girl falls for the cliche pick up line and asks you to analyze her? And by the time you get it wrong you've spun some word magic to make her jump you anyway?"

Jace's eyes raised in smug approval. "You tell me." He paused and looked me over. "Not very social, though that could be because you're near a middle aged bar. However your sarcastic comments tell me your defensive about something you're hiding, which is never good in a social situation. Your outfit is screaming 'attention seeking whore,' but that's not the case with you. This car isn't yours so I'm guessing your here with somebody. There's no white woman young enough to be your mom in there, so it's a father or uncle. It's your dad or you wouldn't be here. A woman in her twenties still tied in with her dad isn't too uncommon in this town. You don't have much money, not enough to get away from him. Your relationship is forced at best. Your mom probably isn't even in the picture considering your bra doesn't fit you right. Judging by the paint stain on your chest, you're an artist. And, of course, you're on the wild side when the chance occurs, though I doubt it does often. That's my own personal statistics of redheads, for you. Did I miss anything?"

I couldn't speak. My brain was trying to process all of what he said. He described me to the T. He said things even Simon didn't know. I blinked repeatedly and muttered, "Never do that again. Please."

Jace laughed. I leaned closer to him, trying my best to do what he did. It didn't work. All I could manage was that he was a young FBI special agent. "You can't be older than thirty. How did you become an agent so quickly?"

He snorted. "Thirty is old for us, sweetheart. I'm twenty four."

I blew out a breath of air and nodded. My phone buzzed in my pocket again. I cursed and saw two messages, one angrier than the other, both from my dad. "Well, Special Agent Jace Wayland, it was a pleasure talking to you, but I have to go."

"Where?" He scoffed.

I shoved the door open, rubbing at my arms. "To flirt with men my father's age."

I began walking to the bar, but he followed. "And why not me?" He sounded genuinely upset that I'd choose the crappy bar over him. I didn't blame him there.

I sent him a wink. "Because I have daddy issues, remember?" Jace snorted. He grabbed my arm, and I whipped around. His eyes were sparkling in the moonlight. "It'd make my job much easier if you didn't come in with me. In fact, don't speak to me at all. I'm not doing anything illegal either." My father is, but he could find that out himself.

Without another word, I slipped from his grasp and entered the bar. I got a drink first, and then I made my way to the poker game going on. My father was at the head of the table, laughing and waving his drink in the air. Three old men downed shots of whiskey like they were nothing. I eyed the competition.

The man with a mustache was too angry to be tampered with. The two other men seemed drunk and happy. I sauntered up to both of them. "Boys, how're we playing?" The bald man hollered and shook his hands in glee. The bigger man wrapped an arm around my waist, resting dangerously close to below the belt buckle.

"Better with you around, doll face," he snickered.

"Hey, Val, where did that ace come from?" Mustache demanded, causally, but in a poker game, nothing was casual. I was worried about him. I supposed he really didn't care for sluts, go figure. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jace sipping a beer, waiting, watching. Analyzing my every move.

"I had it the whole time," Valentine scoffed. He looked at me. "What's your name, darling?" I mentally barfed as I told them my name. Valentine nudged Mustache. "She ain't your type, you're gay, am I right?"

Mustache didn't look amused. He glanced over my body for half a second before focusing intently on his - and Valentine's - cards. "Sure, a real knockout. Now put your money in."

Valentine and Mustache put their chips in the middle. I leaned over and whispered into the bald man's ear. "You can do better than that, can't you?" I said to to the other, "I have a good feeling about this one."

I eyed their cards, and when the time came, I tugged at my ear, telling Valentine to proceed according to theirs. Mustache had already folded. After he won that round, I decided to make my move on the bald guy. "Go for it all and I'll give you double the reward." His hand moved directly in the middle of my shorts. I giggled and moved them away. "Man up."

He grumbled and threw in all his chips. The bigger man's eyes connected with my form sitting nearly on his lap. He grew jealous and did the same. Valentine smirked. The mustache man looked suspiciously at me and then Valentine. He put in half.

I looked up. Jace was still watching us. I sighed and looked away. Why couldn't he just leave? My cheeks heated up. This was embarrassing enough. I didn't want to be here at all, especially not with this old creep.

I turned my attention back to the game. I gave my dad the signal, but Mustache man wasn't folding. The big guy stood from the table. "You're a bunch of pricks. But look who's winning tonight, fellas?" He tugged me against his chest. I leaned further into him. He smelled like beer, BO, and jerky. I almost gagged. But mustache's hand wasn't anything to worry about. I jerked my head in a nod. And then, Valentine won.

"Hey, she's cheating. You just looked at his hand!" The bald man shouted. Valentine collected the chips.

"Pay up, boys."

"You're a fucking cheater, Val. I'm not giving you shit!" Mustache stood from the table.

The big man paid his part, though. "I'm taking this sweetie around back either way. Deal with this through Val."

Mustache man grabbed Valentine by the throat. The big guy practically picked me up by the waist, taking me toward the back rooms. I tried to pry his hands off me. They never got to actually do anything with me. I never let them. It was always over by that point.

"You didn't win," I protested.

"I don't care," he slurred into my ear. His lips started placing kisses down my neck, towards my chest. I groaned and placed my hands on his chest, shoving him away.

"Valentine! Valentine!" I shouted, craning my neck to see him taking one to the face. I gritted my teeth. "Dad!" He didn't even glance over.

My heart squeezed painfully. He didn't care. All he cared about was his damn money. He was going to let his daughter get used like a piece of meat just to get a thousand bucks. When the two men beating him up threw him outside of the bar, the door didn't open again. He didn't come after me.

I screamed, "Get your hands off me, you dick!"

"Stop bitching and I'll make you feel real nice," he growled as he slammed me against the wall. My head pounded. Black faded into my vision. I kept hitting him, but he didn't feel a thing. Who would with that much beer in his system? When my head hit the wall again, I was about ready to give up.

But then all his weight was lifted away from me. Thrown, really. It was there one second, and then the next he was beside me, pressed against the wall by a strong, familiar forearm. I crumpled to the ground, clutching my throat and gaining control of my breathing again. In the back of my mind, I remembered what was said in an animalistic growl.

"Get out now and I won't call your wife about you assaulting a child."

Jace's voice was angry. He shoved the men towards the door, and he left running. Jace crouched in front of me.

"That bastard," I choked, eyes closing as tears began to prick at my eyes.

"He's a pig. My friend is picking him up right now."

I shook my head, looking into his golden eyes. "I'm talking about my dad." Jace deliberated what to do for a moment. A tear slid down my cheek. "He's a coward."

Jace's arms circled around me. The warmth in his touch surprised me. I hugged him back, hard. It was like he was my life raft from a sinking boat. "Come on."

Jace helped me into his car. The truck was long gone. Upon seeing its lack of appearance, I started crying harder. Jace ran a hand through my hair. He placed me in the passenger seat of his car and leaned over so he was level with me. "Breath for me, Clary."

I nodded, taking a deep breath in and a deep breath out. I did this three times before opening my eyes. Jace's golden ones immediately locked with mine. He smiled slightly, a smile that brought a fresh breath of air. "He left me. He...he left me."

Jace grimaced. "Does it surprise you?"

I snorted and wiped at my nose. "No, it doesn't." I shook my head. My vision was submerged in red curls until Jace pushed them gently behind my ears. At this caring gesture, I had to ask. "Why are you doing this? There's no federal crime going on here."

He tilted his head as he examined my wrist. A red ring was forming the shape of a hand. "You've caught my interest. More than the usual poker partner." I snorted at that. He grinned and then sighed. "So why are you doing this?"

I shrugged and shivered in the cold. "I need money for college. I need a place to live. I need food. And a waitressing job pays about half of that."

Jace sighed. "Come on then. My friends are going to want to meet you."

"Why?"

He walked around the car, pounding the hood. When the car started, waves of heat hit me. I smiled slightly. "She's in need of an artist. Nude portraits and all."

My eyes grew wide. I coughed, brushing hair away from my eyes. "She?" Of course he had a girlfriend. Even if I 'caught' his interest, it didn't mean he wasn't already taken. I snorted and looked out the window.

Jace had the audacity to laugh. "My adopted sister? She's the chief here. Her sketch artist bailed on her after they slept together. Quite a fun story."

My head whipped around. "You could have phrased that better," I muttered. It wasn't like I liked the guy. He was just doing his job, and I admired him greatly for that.

"You're adorable," he grinned, shaking his head as he pulled into the station. "Are you any good with portraits?" My cheeks burned.

 _I've already drawn and redrawn yours in my mind._

I didn't realize I said that out loud. Jace put the car into park and winked. "Thanks, Red."

"Shut up," I growled, jumping out of the car as soon as I could. He met me and led us to the door. His smug smile didn't drop. The station had ten or twenty messy, abandoned desks. Two officers had the big guy from the bar sitting at a desk. The girl was standing, lecturing him with a harsh, firm tone. The guy looked at Jace and me and flinched. He looked away glumly. The male officer, whom I assumed was Jace's friend, looked up from his desk and paperwork.

"Is this her?" He asked. Jace nodded. The black haired and blue eyed beautiful boy didn't offer any cushion. "Do you want to press charges?"

I frowned, hesitating before I said, "No."

He nodded and stood, pushing the big guy to the back of the station. I looked at Jace. "Isabelle, this is Clary." Isabelle walked to them. She was tall, beautiful, and intimidating. I shied away, but Jace's hand on my back pushed me forward. Isabelle looked me up and down. "She's an artist without a job."

Isabelle crossed her arms over her chest. "Any schooling?"

I shook my head.

She frowned. "Give her a chance, Iz. A few courses don't cost much. She'll pay you back, won't you?"

I nodded and smiled slightly. "If not, you've got the FBI to mess me up."

Jace snorted and slung an arm around my shoulder. Isabelle shrugged. "You get one chance. I'll describe the person to you."

It all caught up to me at once. I wiped at my nose and eyes, settling down in the seat where the big fat guy was just being questioned. Jace handed me a pencil and a shading pencil. Isabelle gave me a notebook. When I took a deep breath, I finally realized that this was my one chance at getting a real job. I didn't know the pay, but I knew it was more than minimum wage. Depending on that, I could get my own place, start over, and maybe even go to college. If anything, I could take art lessons on the side for a while.

"Ready," I said. Isabelle nodded. She started throwing out features to me. Most aspects of it were easy. After I got the first person down, she scanned over it quickly. Isabelle seemed impressed.

"That was to see your skills. Now I'll describe a real person like a witness would, which can be confusing." She didn't lie. Sometimes, she'd leave parts missing. Other times, she'd double or even triple back on her descriptions. It took a while. The nose was wrong, she insured. His ears weren't connected, even though she previously said they were. "Lastly, ask them for any obvious mutilations, birthmarks, or significant features." She described a tattoo. When I finally finished, she smiled. "If you'll take some courses spanning a few weeks, we'll take you. They are etiquette classes and a few things to sharpen your skills based on a person's description, though you've done well."

I stood up and stuttered, "A-are you sure?"

Isabelle and Jace both laughed. "I'm sure." She paused. "Could you start tomorrow? Unofficially, of course, but if you do about two or three weeks, it will pay for your classes. "

My heart pounded. "What will I make once I've had the classes?" The number she threw out there brought tears to my eyes. "Absolutely. Thank you, both of you. You have no idea how much I've needed this."

Isabelle looked me up and down. "I think we do," she giggled. Jace shoved her shoulder and motioned to the back.

"Don't you have fatso to deal with?" He growled. Her comment didn't bother me, not after hearing about the money I'd be getting. I looked to Jace, unsure how to thank him properly. Following instincts, I threw my arms around his neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I said as he hugged me back with a warm chuckle nuzzling my ear. I kissed his cheek and hopped back to my feet. He had a full smile on his lips. "Do you do this for every girl you save?"

Jace laughed. He sat on the desk, and I stood expectantly in front of him. The sparkle in his golden eyes made my heart pound and my cheeks heat up. "Only the ones whose numbers I want."

I grinned and sent him a flirty wink. "You're the FBI agent. Shouldn't be that hard to find it out for yourself."

Jace raised an eyebrow. I giggled and began to walk away. Then, his hands grabbed my hips and turned me around. A squeal escaped my lips. "You're paying for that one, Fray."

He pulled me close against his chest. My hands flew to his shoulders. His eyes searched mine. "Will this do?"

Jace tilted his head with a frown, and I took that opportunity to bring my lips to his. It took him by less surprise than I'd imagined. He smelled and tasted of minty freshness mixed with scotch and a hint of whatever it was Jace smelled like naturally. It smelled far better than beer and sweat.

His lips responded almost immediately with his keen reflexes. I wound my hands into his hair, and he tightened his grip on my hips. A soft tongue ran along my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth to meet him again. One of Jace's hand traveled lower to rest over my jean shorts. I grinned into the kiss, and he tugged on my lower lip.

I pulled away first, senses heightened and mind fresh. I sent him an impish smile, and he returned it. "Your outfit certainly does work for you."

I rolled my eyes. "Call me, Special Agent Wayland," I walked backwards a step and winked. Then, I walked out the door and called a cab. Only time would tell if he could find me. I really hoped he was good at his job.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

"We're really sad to see you go, Clary," Isabelle moped. I turned around with a rueful smile. When I opened the door and gestured for her to put the box in, she turned her back to me. I cleared my throat.

"Iz."

"What?" She spat, dropping the box of my belongings into the back seat of the car. I raised an eyebrow, wishing I had the talent of lifting only one at a time. "It's not fair. You're the best sketch artist we've had. We'll never get somebody to replace you."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I trained Simon myself! And you're fucking him! Double bonus!"

Isabelle slammed the door shut. "You're taking away my best friend!"

My heart pounded. That was the reaction I was looking for. Isabelle hid her emotions for her friends well. I wrapped my arms around her. "Aw, Iz."

"Seriously, how could you leave? Is it for him? Because I already told that fucker I'd cut off his balls if it came to it," Isabelle placed her hands on my shoulder, staring me directly in the eye.

"Your brother?" I questioned with a laugh. She huffed indignantly. I groaned. "Look. I'm going to take art classes in Virginia's top art school. It's a fucking awesome coincidence that Jace lives thirty minutes from it."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Coincidence? You can ask Jace and any other FBI agent how much they believe in coincidences."

I didn't believe in them, either. Sure, I had my debates over fate, but I liked to think things happened for a reason. It was either a lucky coincidence that Jace was there to stop the guy in the bar from molesting me years ago, which I knew was unlikely since I had no luck whatsoever, or it was fate. It was fate that after all those years of suffering under my father's rule that Jace found me and showed me a path to freedom, one I could take or shy away from.

"Simon thinks Jace pulled a few strings. But if I was accepted into Juilliard, I think this school would have taken me anyways," I confessed. Isabelle's glare didn't soften. "This was what I was working for. You knew that."

She pouted. "Say hello to my other traitor of a brother for me then," she mumbled, not looking me in the eye.

I gasped. "Isabelle!"

"What?"

"He's gay. That doesn't mean he's a traitor."

Isabelle scoffed. "It does when he hid it from me and only revealed it to me to ease my anger of him leaving my squad to go into the FBI like our other brother did to me years before!"

My laughter mixed with a coughing fit. She scared me there for a second. "I really am going to miss you, Iz. Even if you nearly give me a heart attack every day."

"I'll miss you, too," she sighed. When she hugged me, the feeling of being left behind wasn't there, which was a first for me. Instead, excitement mixed with fear for the future fought against regret of leaving my friends and home. She pulled away and wiped at a tear I wasn't sure was there or not. She shoved me into the driver's seat and grinned. "Now go fuck your lover boy! It's been way too long for you!"

I hated how entirely right she was.

. . .

Here's the thing. Jace didn't know I was coming early. In fact, he didn't know I was coming this week at all.

Here the other thing. I was living with Jace.

Now, I had no clue where in my right mind I decided it'd be a good idea to pack up and leave early without informing my roommate this. Sitting outside of his flat, pounding away at the door didn't solve matters, either.

I called him. "Red. Is everything okay?"

Normally, I adored when he called me Red. Now, I felt only utter embarrassment. I didn't earn that name. "Everything's perfect. Simon's struggling to capture the right eye shapes, but it's good," I lied with a sigh. "What are you up to?"

Jace chuckled. "The team and I are over our heads in investigating this group. Want to hear about it?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. He'd be at the office for hours. Biting my lip, I said, "Absolutely." The hallway I was in was long but narrow. I propped my legs up against the door opposite to Jace's. I visited him once, but we didn't have enough time to meet the neighbors. They did their best to avoid us.

After I left, Jace swore they sent him dirty looks for days. Someone even complained about his squeaky bed and then said he should be ashamed with his impurities. I still didn't let that one go.

"We've been doing undercover surveillance on them for years now," he began. I put the phone on speaker and pulled out my sketch book. "They claim to be a Catholic religious group that immigrated from Italy, but we're decently sure they are extremists."

"What, like the Italian Mafia?" I snorted. Sometimes, his cases sounded like jokes to me.

"That's exactly what it is!" Jace sounded genuinely surprised. "Hold on a second, babe." He called out in the background of the phone. "Guys, Clary-,"

"Jace, stop talking about Clary's ass, or her curves, or her lips," Magnus, Alec's boyfriend, yelled. "Let the remainder of the male agents focus."

I blushed and started to giggle. Jace continued, "She just cracked them. The Italian Mafia. It makes sense now. Fuck, they killed a man for spilling coffee on their front door. They have too many guns for just themselves. They never are high but have tons of drugs not found in South America. Hell they attacked me after Clary slept over."

Was he serious? I didn't see how these people were payed the big bucks. Maybe investigations have you tunnel vision. When I heard Italy, the first thought that came to my mind was the Mafia. That and gelato. I wanted gelato.

"So that's what happened to your face?" Aline laughed. Sharp words were exchanged. The background got louder with argumenta and facts and papers being thrown away and keyboard typing. I knew that cue. They were on a roll.

"Clary, you just saved our asses. I've got to go, this is huge," Jace panted.

"As long as I get to smack your ass when I get there," I said with glee.

Jace laughed nervously. "We need to talk about that. If something goes wrong with the Mafia case...well we may not have an apartment afterward."

"What? Why?"

I knew mafias were dangerous, but why would they blow up his home? Even if they wanted to kidnap him, there were other ways. My stomach turned at the idea of him being kidnapped. I always had to remind myself that he was very good at what he did. I shouldn't worry for his safety.

"My apartment is the undercover surveillance I was telling you about. I'm playing the nosey neighbor well." He said in a rush. "Don't worry. We'll get them before you get here. I've got to go-,"

The line cut off abruptly. I gasped. What did he just say? Repeating the lines in my head, I connected something. If his apartment was undercover, then he lived very close to them. A neighbor. He was on their floor.

I was on their floor.

Nearly screaming, I pulled my feet up to my chest. He said they killed a man for staining their door with coffee. I looked up. There was a dark brown stain running halfway down their white door. And my feet were just all over it.

I shot to my feet. My bags were to heavy to grab so I left them. I started calling up Jace, but he didn't answer. I was going to die, and he wouldn't answer.

When I got outside the building, I was gasping for breath. I rang him again. No answer. Groaning, I looked around. His station was only a couple minutes away. As I stood to call a cab, three men walked in front of me. They were Italian brothers, looking so similar it hurt. A scowl on their faces sent my heart beating fast. They had just exited Jace's building. I screamed and ran across the street. Everyone looked at me funny, mainly because I was nearly hit by a car, but the men didn't follow me.

My heart and head were pounding. I called Jace again. He answered! "Jace! Jace, I need help."

"Clary, where the fuck are you?"

I paled. "What? Why?"

"Why are they stalking you outside of my building? What did you do?"

I took a shaky breath and looked around. I couldn't see anyone! Jace's floor was too high up to tell if someone was looking out the window. I gulped. "I - I wanted to surprise you. And I couldn't get in. And I propped my legs up on their door. And then I ran. Jace, what do I do?"

"Shit, Clary," he muttered. "Okay. Come to the station. Get on a cab. They should wait until they can figure out a routine. Just don't draw any more attention to yourself."

I nodded. He didn't hang up. I was near tears by the time a cab came. "Quantico." The cabbie looked at me like I was insane, but he went. "Jace?"

"I'm here," he said. The background was a loud, busy mess. I looked out the back window.

There were many cars, but it was hard to tell if any were trailing us or not. "What about my school? Will I have to move?"

Jace hesitated. "Probably."

Tears slipped down my cheeks. "I'm almost there."

Jace was waiting for me outside of the main gates. We walked through security. Normally, I would have been more energetic to see him. Now, all I could think about was how soon I'd have to leave him. He wrapped his arm around me and shuffled me into the station. "I need you to retell everything to the team. Can you do that?"

I nodded sullenly. He opened the door and pushed me through. The moment he did so, the lights clicked on and people jumped out from everywhere. His entire team, in fact. I fell back into Jace, and his warm arms wrapped around my waist. There stood at the front of the crowd the three Italian brothers that looked so much alike. I nearly screamed.

"Clary, welcome our three newest members of the team," Jace chuckled into my ear. I stiffened. Slowly, I looked between the three and him.

"Are you telling me...?"

Alec laughed. "We're the FBI, Clary. You didn't think you could actually surprise him, did you?"

I was so angry. It was unbelievable he'd do this to me. "That was all a fucked up joke?" I growled, shoving Jace out of the door and into the railing the looked out over the rest of Quantico. He frowned.

"You could have told me, Red," Jace snickered. I flexed my hands and swung. He didn't stop me, and I was glad. The red handprint would stay on his face all day.

"You're so immature. I was scared to death. And this was something to laugh at?" I sneered. Behind me, his entire team was laughing. I turned around. "And you bastards helped him! That's an abuse of power, assholes."

"Come on," Jace began. I clenched my fists and turned back to him again.

"You better pray my luggage is still there when I get back," I hissed. "Keys." Jace reluctantly fished the key out of his pocket. I glanced over my shoulder. "Catch a ride home with Alec. Or 'The Mafia.'"

Jace kept protesting until I got to the garage. There, he finally let me go. Asshole.

But I wasn't upset for long. Magnus helped me plan a revenge plot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Bar Money Part 3**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the names.**

 **A/N: OMG I am SO SORRY! However, I refuse to ever leave a story hanging indefinitely (so if you read my Legend short stories, I am working on finishing them!)! I won't ever forget about you! You all are the best readers for sticking through my longggg ass break. I apologize, though. I never intended to really go past one chapter, let alone two. This is kind of cute, but it definitely falls below the first chapter. I kind of forced it, which I hate doing. but it needed an ending. I normally do happy endings, and this needed a closure scene. You guys asked for it, and I couldn't just leave ya hanging. I hope you don't hate it as much as me!**

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"I promise, Jace, nobody will know a thing." I hissed. Tiptoeing further into the dark, I fumbled around to find his hand. "I warned you about turning me on. When I want you, I want you."

"Why here? Why now?" He muttered. I rolled my eyes. Two weeks ago, Jace got shot in he shoulder. Scariest night of my life. But when he made it through, it offered too many opportunities for revenge. Magnus volunteered to help me plan it while he was still groggy from the surgery.

"Because your team isn't scheduled to land for an hour, which means we have that long to do whatever we want." I turned around, and with the little light in the room, the only thing I could see were his eyes. I grinned, running my hand down his chest. "And I want your dick in my mouth."

"Fuck," he breathed out in a hurry. His hand squeezed mine harder and he took the lead. In a second flat, he shoved open the door I was trying to find. We were in the room now. My breathing sped up. He didn't have a clue. He was much too focused on shoving me on the table.

His lips connected with mine in a way that nearly made me forget my goal. I kissed him back, enjoying this more than I should. His tongue slid against mine, and I fell back on the table. Jace's hands roamed all over my body. One gripped my ass, the other slipped under my shirt and bra, rubbing my boobs. Then he slid my shirt up, but I shoved him back against the wall, praying the agents were smart enough to move before he touched one. They were.

I pulled his shirt off, running my hands along his abs lightly. When it came to his pants, they were off by the time I got to my knees. His orange underwear shone brightly in the dark-lit room. I grasped him suddenly through his underwear, and he groaned, head hitting the wall behind him.

I pulled the underwear to his ankles, but when he tried to kick them off, I commanded, "If you move, you'll get punished."

We had done this before. Being tied up by Jace was one of my favorites, but he loved it when I took control. Either way, sex was hardly ever normal for us. Jace's hands caressed my head, pulling hair out of my face. It took a little foundling of his dick to make it truly hard, but he never disappointed.

With my left hand, I shoved him against the wall. I wrapped my right hand around his lower half. My eyes connected with his, and they were so bright yet so dark. I flicked my tongue over the tip, circling it. The reaction was tangible. His hands tightened, and Jace had trouble restraining himself. When I took him all in my mouth, he let out a grunt, "Fuck, Red."

I was very aware of the actual number of eyes and ears observing us at the moment. I did my best work. Having the entire team of six secretly watching me go down on my boyfriend wasn't as hot as I imagined, especially considering two of them were girls. Still, I truthfully loved making Jace groan and grunt under my tongue.

My thumb ran up and down the bottom of his dick. It was long. Even if I deep throated him, I'd never get him all in. I simulated it, though, and he definitely enjoyed my thumb going to work. When he started meeting my bobbing motion, I knew he was close.

Quickly, I pulled away, staring him dead in the eye. "You're going to be punished, Jace." He didn't accurately comprehend what I said for a few seconds, mind focused purely on the good sensations I gave him. It left me enough time to go back on him, sucking only on the head.

"Clary…"

And I pulled away, pumping him still. Then, I aimed his dick up. Only I would know just how much he comes, and how far it can go. It's a talent, one I was sure he loathed in that very second because it hit him directly in the face, dripping down onto his chest.

He didn't move for three seconds. When he did, it was precise. He was containing his anger. I smirked and happily rose to my feet, wiping my hand on his chest since it was already soiled. His face was priceless. "Clary, what the -,"

The lights flicked on. Brightness blinded me momentarily. People burst into laughter. Cameras flooded the scene. Magnus was at the head of it. Jace Wayland had been played. His eyes jerked from Magnus to me. I blushed and stepped back a few feet.

"You're supposed to be in New York!" Jace growled, pulling up his underwear hastily despite how sticky his dick had to be. I cringed, giggling. His eyes trained on me. "You! You were in on this!"

I laughed. "Guilty."

Jace was furious. "Bitch," he growled. His discarded shirt was on the ground, and that was what he used to wipe the cum off his chin and chest. "Now. Who wants to get my babies smeared all over their fucking faces."

Everyone cleared out faster than ever, but I didn't know where the exit was. And I was still pretty breathless. I screamed and ran around the table that they sat at for every briefing. Jace didn't hesitate to jump over the thing.

"Jace! Jace, I'm so sorry! Magnus made me!" I screamed as he pinned me down. The shirt was coming closer and closer to my face. I clenched my eyes shut. "It's no worse than you making think I was on a Mafia's hit list!"

The shirt smeared all over my face from my hair to my chin. Jace made sure plenty of it got in my mouth. Now I was slightly mad. So I laughed, looked him in the eye, and licked my lips like the semen was delicious. "Nothing I haven't had before, baby."

Jace made a disgusted face. "You don't know what you've just started."

. . .

We were walking along the beach. He didn't have much vacation time, but one week was enough for me. His hand wrapped tightly with mine. It wasn't a busy day for Virginia beach. After walking some ways into 'private land' Jace and I found a little alcove in the dunes and spread out a blanket to lie on.

"Remember when I called you?" Jace broke the silence of the waves. I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes. I could practically taste the salt in the air.

"You took so long I was beginning to lose faith in the FBI," I grinned warmly and sat down. Jace followed me. He fell into the soft ground with a heavy thud, chin on hands, which were on my thighs.

"Your voice cracked. It was adorable," he said. I snorted and swatted at his head. "How did our first date go again?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't act like you don't know."

Jace gave me one of his stellar smiles that sent my heart racing still to this day. He looked so at peace here. It was such a huge contrast to his mood when he returned from a disturbing case, which was almost every one. "Tell me it, please. I'll massage your back."

Seeing it as a fair deal, I rolled to my back. Jace climbed on top of me, his taught hands rolling along my back in a soothing pattern. I closed my eyes and started from his phone call. "You said you refused to go anywhere in the nighttime lest I need to resume my old job, which was a very rude thing to say to me, by the way."

"It's called flirting, sweetheart," he said as he worked my back out. He really dug in.

"We got coffee and took a walk in the park. You helped me practice my sketch art on a nearby musician. We went to the library and spent all evening reading off random poetry to each other."

Jace paused at that. I did, too. His hands were back in a second, though. "What was your favorite poem from that day?"

I giggled, "I've told you this a thousand times, Jace."

"I can't remember everything," he huffed as his hands kneaded my butt. I grinned because he clearly was enjoying this as much as me.

Then, I started reciting it.

 _To announce love is one thing,_

 _But to announce love in love's kingdom_

 _With nothing but a wedding ring,_

 _Is certainly a lack of wisdom_

 _However, to declare never-parting souls_

 _With your guard at her back_

 _On top of the unstable land with no holes_

 _Is something to put on a plaque_

"It's so dumb it's beautiful." I sighed. Jace had stopped massaging my back now. I opened one eye. He had something in his hands. I tried twisting around, but he didn't let me. "Jace?"

He stood, and then helped me to my feet with his right hand. His left was behind his back. I crossed my arms over my chest and look at him in question. "If you Taser me for fun again, I will report you to Magnus. You know what he did last time, too."

Jace's small smile sent my heart beating fast. He shook his head in an almost sheepish way, but I knew I had to have been wrong. Jace wasn't sheepish. He was hot and cocky and sometimes a little unsure of himself, but he wasn't sheepish. "I love you, Clary. I've loved you ever since you surprised me in my apartment, naked, when you got your first vacation time off." I blushed.

I showed up naked, ready to finally have sex with him for the first time, but it wasn't just him who walked in. It was, surprise surprise, half of his team. At this point, I shouldn't even be embarrassed. They'd seen as much as he had. I had never seen a man shove so many people outside of his apartment so fast.

"I love every fucking detail about you, and I could list off every reason if you need me to, but dammit I just want to marry you," Jace said finally, like these words had been waiting to come out for months. My breathing grew shallow. From behind his back, he pulled out a black box. I really couldn't breathe now. Jace opened it, and we stepped together so that we were connected in this moment. "Please, Clary, say you'll marry me."

The ring was unlike any other. It was simple, but also unique. On the band there was a line of black. The diamond was the perfect size - small enough to hide in my gloves but still stunning. My eyes were wide and disbelieving.

"I'm only 25," I muttered. Jace's hand caressed my face. I wished he wouldn't stop doing that.

"I'm more sure about this - about you - than I am about anything," Jace promised. "Are you?"

I took a shaking breath. My hands were quivering. But I thought about how he phrased that. He was sure about me. He wanted to make it permanent. It wasn't getting married to have the perfect little family. It was getting married to get married, to extend our love to one another in the eyes of everyone we cared about. It was to make this officially permanent because it already was, whether I liked it or not.

As my eyes watered, I looked up. "No huge white puffy gown." Jace's instant smile made me sure I made the right decision. "No leaving the toilet seat up." Even though we already lived together and I knew he'd never get rid of that habit, I wanted to throw it in for good measure. "And no leaving me."

Jace's arms wrapped around my body in under a second. That was my way of saying yes, and he understood completely. I was laughing with relief as he peppered my cheeks with kisses. He was so warm, so real, so there.

"I-," Jace began, but then we heard a very familiar voice.

"Pa-lease, no more sappy bullshit from you, Wayland!" Isabelle groaned from behind their backs. My mouth dropped open and I spun around. "She said yes. Now let's get drunk!"

Magnus and Alec shouted a "Hurrah!" and came forward with two bottles of champagne. Simon joined them, and so did Maia and Jordan. All of my new friends plus an old one were clapping and grinning.

"You planned this," I accused of Jace, an impish smile on my lips. He shrugged and winked at me, smirking. I snorted and wrapped my arms around him.

"I like this surprise," I whispered, pressing my lips against his cheek. His hand snaked around my waist and pinched my ass.

"I knew you would."

"Okay, no, this is going to stop," Isabelle tore our arms apart, pretending to gag. She held up her own personal bottle. "Let's appreciate our week off without seeing more disgusting pictures."

I grinned and took a cup of champagne. "So. Which of you gave him the smart idea of making me sap myself up instead of having Jace man up and say something sweet himself?"

For once, Jace couldn't look anywhere near me. Magnus burst into triumphant laughter. "I told you idiots! Alec, darling, if you give yourself that same advice when you propose to me, you'd better buy me a much flashier piece of jewelry!"

I met eyes with Jace and gave him my look. I didn't know what I'd do with or without him. He smiled cheekily at me and I flipped him off. Even engaged, things would always be the same between us.

I guess it will have to work.

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 **A/N: Oh, and it was also short af. I am so sorry guys. I wouldn't have been able to finish it without all of your awesome reviews pushing me forward. You're amazing! I hope you leave me some reviews here, too, though don't lie. It really kind of sucked. I wish I could make it better, but it just never hit me.**

 **If you are looking for something actually worthy to read, I have some other short stories and a couple long ones, one still in progress. Actually, my newest short story is one I'm really passionate about. Hey! It's my first story that really doesn't center around sexual scenes at all but is still awesome! YAY!**

 **Anyways, I'm glad you all enjoyed this story, or at least the first two chapters!**


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